Remembered: Book One
by avalon.clarity
Summary: Grace Wilder is starting her first year at Hogwarts and bonds instantly with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Together, they must face mean–spirited Slytherins, baby dragons, and a secret in the heart of Hogwarts. Starting at book one with an OC.
1. The Journey From Platform 9 & 3 Quarters

**Hey guys! Thanks for reading this story! I'm really excited about finally posting it. I've been writing it for months and months and I'm finally revealing it to everyone. I've written up to about halfway through Goblet of Fire. This series is sort of my baby so I'm a little nervous about showing it to you.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Grace Wilder wasn't ordinary.

She looked normal enough, in her gray jumper and blue jeans and sneakers. She pushed a trolley like hundreds of other travelers going through King's Cross Station. Her hair was long and brown and in a French braid down her back, and she had a spattering of light freckles across her pale cheeks. Her eyes were dark brown, and she had a delicate nose set over a firm set mouth. A fading bruise was on her right cheekbone.

She wasn't ordinary.

In her trunk were clothes and a toothbrush, but there were also spell books and potion ingredients and a golden key to a bank vault deep underground, protected by magic, and a wand: beech with phoenix feather core, twelve and a quarter inches, reasonably supple.

She was also running late. The clock said it was 10:50; the train left at 11:00. She had to hurry.

She would have been on time if her mother, who had been passed out on the couch, a half–gone bottle of whiskey on the floor, had been able to drive her. Grace had figured she wouldn't, so she'd called a cab, which turned out to be fifteen minutes late.

In all honesty, Grace was glad her mother hadn't woken up. She'd already had to deal with going to Gringotts and Diagon Alley on her own, and even though she'd been there before when she was younger, she'd been terrified on her own.

It was still better than going with her mum, who, three days ago, had screamed that Grace was abandoning her in a drunken rage then thrown a slap that threw Grace into the wall, leaving her with a bruised shoulder and the mark on her cheek.

The only good thing about this was that Grace now had the key to her vault; her mother couldn't stop her from going to Hogwarts no matter what she did.

That was the name of the school. Hogwarts. Her mum had gone when she was Grace's age. Practically every witch and wizard in Britain went there. And the only way to get to the train which Grace was now very late for was by Platform 9 ¾.

Grace finally spotted the red brick wall. She began jogging; it was 10:54. She rushed at it, ignoring a stare from a woman walking in the opposite direction, and shut her eyes as her heart beat faster. She felt like her body was passing through cool water, and she opened her eyes.

Steam filled the air with a haze. The platform was packed with people, all gibbering delightedly. Parents helped their children onto the train and hugged each other goodbye. Grace felt a pang of jealousy before pushing it away. She couldn't envy other people's happiness.

The red steam engine sparkled in the bright light, and cats wound around everyone's ankles while owls hooted. Grace didn't have an animal, but she hoped she could get an owl in a couple years. A sign stating the train was the Hogwarts Express swung slightly, and Grace grinned to herself. She'd fantasized about this moment, the moment when she finally became a real wizard.

She quickly loaded her things onto the train and began heading down the crowded passageway, full of students catching up with each other after the holidays. No one paid her a second glance, except for a white–blond boy who shoved her roughly out of his way. He wore a green and silver scarf. The two rather brutish boys following him laughed loudly, and she turned to look, but he had already disappeared into the crowd. There was no point in yelling after him.

Grace turned back around and crashed into someone. She stumbled and just barely caught her balance. A laugh from the person made her cheeks flame with embarrassment.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." She said quickly to the boy, who had wild, dark brown hair and sparking blue eyes.

"It's okay." He said, and Grace was relieved to see a kind smile on his face.

"I saw those guys who pushed you. Just ignore them." He told her.

"Don't worry, I am." Grace replied, her cheeks still red.

"Will Harp." The boy held out a hand.

"Grace Wilder." She said, shaking it with a small smile.

"First year?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Better find a seat, newbie. We're leaving…" The train jerked forward, and they took off. "Right about now."

"Will, come on!" Another boy's voice said, and with another wide grin, Will ducked back into his compartment.

Grace continued on, searching for an empty compartment. She almost reached the back of the car when she found one with two boys in it, talking. She took a deep breath, quelling the nervousness, reminding herself that no one here would scream and cry and hit her here, and she slid open the door.

"Hi, um," she looked at them carefully, "do you mind? Everywhere else is–"

"Full?" One said. He had bright red hair and a long nose splattered with freckles. His pale blue eyes stood out from his fair skin. "Sure."

Grace smiled gratefully and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She sat down across from the other boy, who smiled at her. She looked at him and did a double take.

"Are you _Harry Potter_?" She asked, kind of awestruck.

"Um, yeah." He said.

"Sorry, it's just, I've heard about you." Grace said. She was stuttering nervously. She needed to stop doing that.

"I'm Grace. Grace Wilder." She said quickly.

"I'm Ron Weasley." The ginger boy said.

"It's nice to meet you." Grace said. "I was kind of worried I wouldn't meet anyone I liked. There was a boy on the train who was really rude."

"Was he our year?" Ron asked.

"I think. And he had a Slytherin scarf on."

Ron groaned.

"Fred and George, my older brothers, they're twins," he explained to Grace, "They told me the Slytherins are horrible. And my brother Percy, he's a perfect, he said that they are always disrupting the classes and stuff. But that might just be Percy."

"So your parents are wizards too?" Harry asked glumly. Grace had barely gotten over the shock of seeing him. His hair was black, wild, and his eyes were a vivid green.

"My mum is. My dad was a Muggle." Grace told him.

"Was?" Ron asked.

"He died, in a car crash about three years ago. Mum and I haven't really got on since then." Grace said. She didn't want to ruin this with saying that her mum was a raging drunk.

There was an awkward silence.

"Oh. Sorry." Ron said quietly, and Grace smiled.

"It's okay. I feel sad about it sometimes, but really, I can talk about it." She reassured him quickly, and he relaxed.

She stared at Harry for a second before coming to. "Sorry, I just can't believe it's you. You have the scar…?"

Harry smiled and lifted up his black bangs to reveal a thin, lightning–shaped mark.

"Wow." Grace said, and she sat back. "I can say I've met a celebrity now."

Ron and Harry laughed a little at her joke.

"Are all your family wizards?" Harry asked Ron. He looked fascinated with his surroundings, taking everything in with a wide–eyed look.

"Er…yes, I think so." Ron said. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you both must know lots of magic already." Harry said.

"No, course not! I mean, sure, we've all made weird stuff happen when we're kids, but you've probably had that too." Grace said to make him feel better, and felt pleased when he nodded, looking more cheerful.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?" Ron asked Harry.

"Horrible." Harry said. "Well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are though. Wish I had three wizard brothers."

"Five." Ron said glumly. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left; Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out a very fat, very gray, and very normal–looking rat.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being a prefect, but they couldn't aff– I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron blushed scarlet, and Grace patted his hand with a smile.

Harry immediately launched into the story of his life wearing his cousin Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthdays and staying with Ms. Figg, the crazy cat lady who lived near him. Ron began to look happier again as he continued. Harry also told them how the Hogwarts groundskeeper, Hagrid, had come to get him from the Dursleys.

"…and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort."

Grace let out a little cry and jumped, while Ron gasped. Grace could feel her heart hammering faster at the mention of the thing her mother had told her about when she was very young, the thing that made both her parents turn white with fear.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You said You–Know–Who's name!" Ron said, sounding shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you of all people–"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name." Harry told them. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn…I bet, I bet I'm the worst in the class." He sounded as though a weight had been lifted from his chest with the words.

"Don't worry, Harry." Grace said. "Tons of people were raised as Muggles, and they do fine."

She looked out the window. There were fields outside, full of cows and sheep. The compartment stayed comfortably quiet, watching the land speed past. Grace was deep in thought.

She hadn't had many friends the past few years. Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve, and Grace knew she was very trusting. She already trusted Harry and Ron, though not with everything. She didn't want to mess this up, the happiness she already felt so short after leaving the cage she called a house.

The smallest part of her felt guilty for leaving. Who knew what her mum would do when she woke up and found Grace gone? Grace remembered her before the accident. She had been a little difficult at times, but nowhere near this bad. And part of Grace thought that person could come back, if she had more time.

She decided, right then and there, that she'd keep her family and her friends separate. They didn't have to know the whole truth, and when she was seventeen, she could leave for good. She felt more at home here than she had with her mother for the past three years.

Finally, at half–past twelve, when Grace's stomach was starting to rumble, she heard a clattering outside, and a dimpled woman slid back their door.

"Anything off the cart, dears?" She asked, and Grace stood, getting out her money pouch. Harry leapt to his feet and Ron muttered something about having lunch.

Harry stared with wide eyes at the assortment of candy and cakes. Grace grinned at him.

"Let's get some of everything and just share." She said, and he nodded in awestruck amazement.

They quickly bought what they wanted and heaved it all onto the empty seat. Grace considered the pile and grabbed a Cauldron Cake. Harry unwrapped a Pumpkin Pasty.

"Hungry you two?" Ron asked.

"Starving." Harry said, taking a huge bite.

"I missed breakfast." Grace said, looking at the mysterious package in Ron's lap. He unwrapped it and grimaced. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these." Harry offered, holding up another pasty.

"You don't want this, it's all dry. She hasn't got much time," Ron said very quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Oh, go on Ron." Grace said happily. It felt good to share with friends. "Just take what you want."

They started eating their way through the pasties, cakes, and candies, leaving the sandwiches happily forgotten on the seat.

"What are these?" Harry held up a Chocolate Frog while Grace unwrapped one. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No." Ron said, "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know. Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them; you know, to collect, famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

"You collect them?" Grace asked as she struggled with the box.

"Don't you?"

"Not really my thing." The box finally popped open, and Grace barely caught the frog before it hit the ground.

She looked at the card and grinned. "Hey Ron, here's something for you." She tossed it at him, and he crowed in excitement at the sight of Agrippa.

"So this is Dumbledore!" Harry said, looking at his own card. Grace peered over his shoulder at the white–haired man with a crooked nose and half–moon spectacles. He smiled serenely at them through his piercing blue eyes.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron exclaimed. "Can I have a frog? I might get Ptolemy," Harry nodded, and Ron grabbed one off the stack. "Thanks."

Harry flipped the card over while Grace finished savoring her chocolate. She picked up Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and popped it into her mouth.

"He's gone!" Harry exclaimed.

"Of course! He's not gonna hang around all day." Grace said.

"No, I've got Morgana again, and I've got about six of her…do you want it? You can start collecting." Ron said to Harry. His eyes wandered to the unwrapped Chocolate Frogs.

"Help yourself." Harry said, and Grace nodded. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in pictures."

"What?" Ron asked incredulously. "They don't move at all?"

Harry shook his head.

"Weird!" Ron sounded amazed at the concept, and Grace laughed.

They worked their way through the rest of the Chocolate Frogs, leaving a pile of trash on an empty seat. Harry collected the cards that Ron and Grace gave him, staring at the faces intensely as though he still wasn't sure they existed. He finally tore his eyes away and picked up a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Ooo, be careful." Grace said.

"What? Why?" Harry asked.

"When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor. You know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George swears he got a boogey–flavored one once." Ron said. He gingerly picked up a green bean, considered it, and nibbled a bit off the end.

"Bleaargh…see? Sprouts!"

Grace laughed at his screwed–up face a little and they dug in.

They had a good time eating the beans. Grace got mint, roast beef, watermelon, lime, pickle, salt, cinnamon, mashed parsnip, and Ron dared her to try a weird looking one with specks of red and blue in it. It turned out to be sprinkles, and she dared Harry to try a pitch black one. He took a tiny nibble and shook his head. It was pepper.

Outside, woods crowded the train, and Grace could see rolling hills blanketed in dark green.

There was a knock on the door to their compartment, and Grace looked away from the land outside. A tearful, round–faced boy stood in their door.

"Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?" He asked.

"No, sorry." Grace said as the boys shook their heads. The boy wailed.

"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" He said pitifully.

"He'll turn up." Harry said encouragingly.

"Yes, well, if you see him." The boy said miserably before turning to leave.

"Don't know why he's so bothered." Ron said. "If I'd brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

Scabbers still slept on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference." Ron complained. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look–"

He quickly rummaged in his trunk and pulled out a wand. It was battered and chipped and the unicorn hair was nearly falling out the end, and Grace suddenly felt very guilty about her gleaming, brand–new wand.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out." Ron said. "Anyway…"

He raised his wand and opened his mouth when the compartment door slid open again.

A girl stood there with the round–faced boy from earlier. She already wore her Hogwarts robes and had very bushy brown hair.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She said. Her voice was rather bossy and her front teeth were a bit abnormally large.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it." Ron said, but the girl was staring at his wand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then." She said, and Ron looked at Grace with wide eyes as the girl sat down.

"Er…all right." He said and he cleared his throat loudly.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He said, but Scabbers didn't move, still painfully gray.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" The girl asked. "We'll it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" She said this speech very fast and Grace was taken aback, but found herself liking this girl. She seemed very opinionated and sure of herself, but Grace didn't think they needed to know the course books by heart. She'd read them, of course, during her spare time, but memorize them? Ron and Harry just looked stunned.

"I'm Ron Weasley." Ron said slowly.

"Grace Wilder." Grace said.

"Harry Potter." Harry said, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"Are you really? I know all about you, of course, I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in _Modern Magical History _and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" Harry looked dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." Hermione said. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…Anyway, we better go and look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Hermione whisked away and Grace whistled.

"That was…"

"Overwhelming?" Harry asked.

"Annoying?" Ron said, disgruntled.

"Interesting." Grace said thoughtfully.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it." Ron said to her. Grace shrugged, a little put off at his sudden decision to dislike Hermione.

"Stupid spell, George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud." He continued, and Grace felt sympathetic for him. He was only embarrassed.

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor." Ron said gloomily. "Mum and Dad were in it too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"I'd think I'd rather leave." Grace said.

"That's the house Vol–I mean, You–Know–Who was in?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Ron looked depressed.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry. "So what do your brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts." Ron said.

"Oh, did you hear?" Grace said excitedly. "It was in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days ago; someone tried to break into a high security vault!"

Ron nodded emphatically while Harry said, "Really? What happened to them?"

"Nothing! That's why everyone's talking about it." Grace said.

"My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You–Know–Who's behind it." Ron said, and Grace shivered.

"Imagine though, if he was!" She said in undertone.

Ron flicked the thought off like a fly.

"What's your Quidditch team?" He asked them.

"Kenmare Kestrels." Grace said, and Ron gaped.

"No."

"Yeah. They're the best! What about you?" She crossed her arms.

"Chudley Cannons." Ron said, and Grace snorted.

"They're bottom of the league!"

"What position do you play?" Ron asked.

"Chaser, but I've tried Seeker. I have a broom at home. You?"

"I've tried everything." Ron said. "My brothers and I play. What about you, Harry?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "I don't know any teams, or what Quidditch is." He said.

"What!" Ron looked shocked. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world!"

Grace and Ron took turns explaining how the game was played, what the positions were, what the balls were called, famous matches and teams, and the best broomsticks. Ron was about to detail the finer points when their compartment door slid open once again.

Three boys sauntered in, and Grace recognized the three who had pushed her in the corridor.

"Is it true?" The blond, small one asked. He had slicked back hair, very pale skin, and a pointed chin. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes." Harry said. The other boys cracked their knuckles, staring at Ron and Grace menacingly. They both looked incredibly mean, like hired bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle." The pale boy said offhandedly. "And my name's Draco Malfoy."

Grace rolled her eyes and Ron coughed slightly, like he was trying to hide a snicker.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Draco said viciously, and Grace tensed.

"And you're not one to be talking, what with that mark on your cheek." Draco said to her, and her hand shot up to cover it with her hair before forgetting her hair was pulled back into her usual braid.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Malfoy held out a hand as though he expected Harry to shake it, and Grace prayed that he would stay.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Harry said coolly, and Grace breathed a soft sigh of relief, as Draco turned pink.

"I'd be more careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and this girl, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry and Ron stood up, Ron's hands in fists. Grace shot to her feet, prepared to get involved if she had to.

"Say that again." Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy asked sneeringly.

"Unless you get out now." Harry said bravely, and Grace prepared herself for pain as she shifted towards Ron.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Malfoy said, and Goyle, with a scowl, reached for a Chocolate Frog. Ron leapt forward, and Grace reached to hold him back, but before either of them could lay a hand on each other, Goyle let out a horrible screech.

Scabbers was hanging firmly onto Goyle's finger, teeth sunk in despite Goyle swinging him around widely. He finally flew off and hit the window, and Malfoy looked at Grace, eyes narrowed as Goyle backed out of the compartment.

"I think you should leave now." She said coldly, and the three boys vanished. A few seconds later, a head of bushy hair appeared and Hermione Granger looked around their compartment, dumbfounded.

"What has been going on?" She asked.

"I think he's been knocked out." Ron said as Grace took in the limp rat and the sweets scattered over the floor. "No…I don't believe it, he's gone back to sleep."

"You've met Malfoy before?" He asked Harry, who nodded.

"In Diagon Alley, Madame Malkin's. He talked about the House Quidditch teams and how he wanted to be on the team and how Hagrid was a savage."

"Git." Grace said foully.

"I've heard of his family. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You–Know–Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He looked at Hermione, who still stood there. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!" Hermione said worriedly.

"They came in here. We didn't exactly invite them." Grace said.

"Look, would you mind leaving while we change?" Ron asked.

"All right…I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly." Hermione sniffed. "And you're got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron glared at her while Grace extracted her robes and wand from her trunk.

"I'm going to go to the girls' toilet to change." She said, and she went into the corridor.

Once she'd returned and put her Muggle clothes back in her trunk, they got ready to leave. Grace began to feel butterflies waking up in her stomach. She noticed that Ron's robes were faded and a bit short for him, but it didn't really matter to her.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." A disembodied voice echoed through the train.

Grace shoved the last of the chocolate into her trunk as well and prepared to get off at her new home. She had no idea what to expect.

The doors opened, and Harry, Ron, and Grace stepped onto the small platform. Grace shivered despite her heavy robes.

"Firs' years. Firs' years over here!" A deep voice bellowed over the noise, swinging a lamp.

"All right there, Harry?" The voice asked, and the face came into view. Grace gaped at the eight–foot tall man whose eyes twinkled kindly out of a fierce and hairy face.

"C'mon, follow me–any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Hagrid yelled, and Grace, sticking close to Harry, followed him down a steep, narrow path. No one really spoke.

"Yeh'll get yer first sight of Hogwarts in a sec." Hagrid said, "jus' round this bend here."

Grace gasped as she saw the sight that waited for her. A glittering black lake stretched out in front of them. Perched precariously on top of a high mountain sat a vast castle with shining lights pouring out of the windows. The stars blanketed the sky.

"No more'n four to a boat." Hagrid told them, gesturing to the small fleet along the water. Harry, Ron, and Grace stepped into one, followed by Hermione. Grace gave her a small smile.

"How did you get that bruise?" Hermione asked curiously. Grace shoved the memory out of her mind, pushing out any thought of her mother with it.

"I…tripped into a staircase." She said, and Hermione winced sympathetically.

"Everyone in?" Hagrid asked. "Right then – FORWARD!"

The little boats moved off together, gliding smoothly across the mirror–like lake. The current faded unnaturally fast to calm behind them.

"Heads down." Hagrid said as they approached a curtain of ivy covered a cliff face. Grace ducked and looked up. The cavern opened into a wide tunnel, where they then clambered out onto a rocky shore.

"Oi, you there. Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked.

"Trevor!" Neville said happily a boat or two over.

They clambered up a steep passageway to emerge onto the short grass. They were so close to the castle now Grace could almost feel the waves of anticipation as they climbed a set of stone stairs and stopped in front of a hewn oak door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid looked at them kindly before raising a dustbin–sized hand and knocking three times on the door.


	2. The Sorting Hat

**Hey guys! Here's chapter two of Remembered! Thanks for the reviews and follows, I really appreciate it. Sorry I couldn't update sooner but my computer was acting weird.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

The door swung open immediately, revealing a tall witch with black hair, emerald robes, and a very stern face. Grace knew instantly from looking at her that no one should choose to cross this woman.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door even wider. Grace gaped at the massive entrance hall. She could've fit her entire house in it. Torches burned on the rough walls and the ceiling was too high to make out. Grace saw Ron and Harry looking around, just as dumbstruck.

The group, about forty new students, followed Professor McGonagall across the flagstone floor. Grace heard the murmur of hundreds of students through a doorway on her right, but Professor McGonagall led them through to a smaller, empty chamber off the main hall.

Grace's mum used to tell her stories of Hogwarts, but nothing compared to this. She waited next to Ron and Harry, who looked nervous with anticipation. The first years clumped together in the center of the room.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall addressed them. "The start–of–term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while, you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her sharp eyes lingered on the smudge on Ron's nose, Harry's wild hair, and Neville's cloak fastened under his ear.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." Professor McGonagall told them before exiting.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Ron said. He was very pale, and Grace smiled.

"Don't worry." She said.

"Do you know what we have to do?" Harry asked.

"No, but it can't be that bad." Grace said optimistically. In reality she felt very scared. Everyone, even Draco Malfoy, looked wane and terrified. Hermione Granger was the only one talking, whispering about which spell she'd need to do well. Grace just waited, trying to control her fraying nerves. She stared intently at the door, waiting for the professor to reappear and lead her to where she'd be subjected to some wild exam.

Then something happened that made her jump a foot into the air. Harry gasped on her left. Several people screamed.

About twenty pearly–white ghosts floated through the wall, arguing intensely about something. A fat monk said, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance–"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" The ghost wearing tights and a ruff seemed to notice the first years below him.

"New students!" The Friar said with a smile. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A couple people nodded mutely as if afraid they would vomit if they opened their mouths.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff." The fat Friar said happily. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now." Professor McGonagall said, and Grace's heart jumped into her throat. Moths were beating against the walls of her stomach. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

The ghosts drifted away as Grace faced the door, which loomed like a giant beast.

"Now form a line and follow me." Professor McGonagall ordered them. With a lot of shuffling, Grace got between Harry and Ron and walked shakily out. She had never been so aware of her muscles tensing, her breath heaving out of her lungs, the sweat gathering in the palms of her hands.

They walked into the Great Hall and Grace forgot her fear for a second.

It was decorated with thousands of lit candles floating in midair over four long tables where the other students sat. The other teachers sat at the high table. The plates and goblets were a glowing gold. Professor McGonagall led them in a line up towards the teacher's table, past the other students. Grace stared at her feet to avoid looking at them. They reached the front of the hall and Grace faced the students. Their faces flickered in the candlelight, making it impossible to find any distinct features. Grace felt an elbow nudge her, and she looked at Harry, who pointed up. She looked at the ceiling and saw stars instead, blanketing the velvety black.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History_." Hermione whispered to her, and Grace nodded.

Professor McGonagall was walking back now. She placed a stool down in front of them, and then put an incredibly frayed and dirty wizard's hat on the stool. Grace didn't know what the hat was for, but with everyone's eyes on the first years, her breath was short and shallow.

Then, the hat twitched. A rip in the front opened wide as if the hat had a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in __Gryffindor__,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set __Gryffindor__s apart;_

_You might belong in __Hufflepuff__,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in __Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Grace's face split into a smile as the whole audience burst into applause. The hat seemed to bow to each table before becoming still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat! I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll." Ron whispered to them.

Harry smiled queasily, and Grace patted his arm. Trying on a hat was much better than anything she'd imagined.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!"

A blond girl with pigtails stumbled forward, sat down, and slammed the hat onto her head, where it fell to rest on her nose.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted, and one of the tables burst into cheers. Grace saw the Fat Friar smiling kindly at the girl as she sat down, grinning.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat yelled again, and Bones, Susan went to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The Sorting continued with "Brocklehurst, Mandy" going to Ravenclaw and "Brown, Lavender" heading over to Gryffindor. Grace thought she could make out a red–haired bunch cheering enthusiastically. She had already figured out she'd be close to last, along with Ron.

"Bulstrode, Millicent", a hulking, mean–looking girl, became a Slytherin next.

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch–Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus", a sandy–haired boy took almost a minute to decide before the hat chose Gryffindor for him. Grace only knew two things; she would hate to be in Slytherin, and her mother had been a Ravenclaw.

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione ran up to the stool eagerly and jammed the hat on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron groaned from beside Grace, and she elbowed him.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy with the toad, was called, the hat put him in Gryffindor and he dashed away with the hat still on his head to the entire Hall's amusement. He had to run back to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Judging by Malfoy's content smile, Grace knew he had expected and wanted that result.

Moon…Nott…Parkinson…a pair of twins, Patil and Patil…Perks…and then,

"Potter, Harry!"

Grace watched excitedly as Harry walked forward. The hall erupted into whispers of, "Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter?"

Harry put the hat on his head, where it fell over his eyes. The hat took a minute or so with him before finally screaming:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Grace grinned as Harry, smiling at last, went to sit down at the Gryffindor table.

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

There were only three people left, and Grace was sure Ron, who had turned green, was next.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Grace had to push him forward a little. The moment the hat touched Ron's head, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron's shoulders slumped in relief as he traipsed off to join Harry.

"Wilder, Grace!"

Grace stopped breathing. She could see Harry and Ron sitting next to each other, watching her eagerly. But what if she wasn't put with them, her only friends so far? She sat down on the rough wood and dropped the hat over her eyes.

"Hmm…interesting." A small voice said in her ear, and she tried not to flinch in surprise.

"Ooo, kind and loyal, good, good, but ambitious, though you haven't figured out where to put all that ambition quite yet, and look at that mind. Not quite the best I've seen today, but excellent all the same. And there's plenty of courage, if only you would use it. So where do you belong?"

Grace though desperately, pleadingly, _just put me in Gryffindor, please. I want to be with friends._

"Oh, you want to be with your new friends. Haven't had very many, have you? And Gryffindor will help you uncover all that bravery so you could finally defy that mother of yours, and surely they could use that talent. Yes, that is a good fit."

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat yelled, and Grace took it off. She hoped desperately the hat was right about being able to stand up for herself. As she hurried towards a cheering Ron and Harry, she saw a seat facing them between Hermione and another boy.

As she sat down in the empty chair, the boy turned towards her.

"Congratulations." He said with a smile, and Grace recognized Will from the train.

"You didn't tell me you were in Gryffindor!" She said with a smile.

"No need. I knew you'd be here." He said with a grin.

Grace looked back at a very happy Harry and a pleased Ron. She could see three more redheaded boys sitting at the table, one next to Harry and two further down.

Grace's stomach rumbled, and she looked around, hoping no one heard. She was starving.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. Grace watched him eagerly as he beamed at them.

"Welcome!" He said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like a say a few words. And they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Grace clapped along with everyone else, but she wasn't sure whether Dumbledore had been joking or not. Harry apparently had the same idea.

"Is he…a bit mad?" He asks the red–haired boy next to him.

"Mad? He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

While they had been talking, the tables had been filled full of food. Grace grinned as she took in the plates of roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and peppermint humbugs.

She helped herself to a bit of everything except for the humbugs and the pork chops and dug in.

"I'm Percy Weasley, by the way. Gryffindor prefect." The red–haired boy next to Harry remarked. Grace swallowed her bite of steak hastily.

"Grace Wilder." She told him, and she felt the sensation of icy water passing through her.

"That does look good." The ghost with the ruff remarked from where he had just passed through Grace. She tried not to shiver.

"Can't you–" Harry began.

"I haven't eaten in nearly four hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy–Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said through a mouthful of food. "My brother told me about you. You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I'd prefer Sir Nicholas de Mimsy–" Nick said irritably, but Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be Nearly Headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked very irritated now.

"Like this." He said, grabbing his head and pulling it to the side.

His head fell to his shoulder, and Grace lurched away. It was only attached by a centimeter or so, as though someone had tried to behead him and not quite finished the job.

"So, new Gryffindors!" Nick said, flipping his head back onto his neck. "I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row. The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable. He's the Slytherin ghost."

Grace peered over at the Slytherin table to see a gaunt man with chains and silver blood down his front floating next to Malfoy, who didn't look happy with the arrangements. Grace smiled to herself and returned to her food.

"How did he get covered in blood?" Harry asked.

"I've never asked." Sir Nicholas said delicately.

Once Grace felt comfortably full, her plate was wiped clean, and the food disappeared, only to be replaced by mountains of dessert.

"You want some of the éclairs, trust me." Will told Grace, who picked one up.

"I want some of everything." She said to him, and he laughed.

The chatter quickly turned to their families, a topic Grace didn't want to talk about.

"I'm half–and–half." Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

Everyone laughed, including Grace.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked him.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch." Neville said. "But my family thought I was all–Muggle for ages. My Great–Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me. He pushed me off the edge of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by my ankles when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he accidently let go. But I bounced, all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here, they thought I wouldn't be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

"What about you, Grace?" Seamus asked, and Grace shrugged.

"My dad's a Muggle, mum's a witch. He knew about her being a witch, but he died a couple years ago. Not much to say really." She didn't miss the looks exchanged around the table.

"What about you?" She asked Will.

"My parents are both wizards, but my dad is a Muggle–born." He said, moving past her words, and she was grateful for that. "Not much to say, really. No siblings, nothing."

Grace shrugged. "It's just me and mum. I don't have any brothers or sisters either." She was beginning to feel rather tired and full. She felt her eyes drooping a little. Will yawned on her left and Ron was falling asleep on her right.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed, and Grace shot to attention. His hand was clapped to his forehead.

"Are you alright?" She asked him.

"Yeah." He said, wincing. "Fine."

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he wants Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Grace looked at the greasy, black–haired professor with a hooked nose and sallow skin distastefully.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, and the Hall fell silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the Weasley twins, who looked back innocently.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third–floor corridor on the right–hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but Grace stayed silent, her brow furrowed.

"Is he being serious?" She asked Will.

"I don't know." He answered, looking confused. "I think he'd normally explain a bit more, but it seems honest enough."

Grace looked back at Dumbledore, who was smiling as though nothing he'd said had been out of the ordinary.

"And now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore proclaimed. He flicked his wand in the air and a golden ribbon floated from the end and twisted into words high above the teacher's table.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!" Dumbledore said, and the tables erupted into song.

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_

_Teach us something please_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

_For now they're bare and full of air_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff_

_So teach us things worth knowing_

_Bring back what we've forgot_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

As everyone finished, only the Weasley twins were left singing a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted them with his wand and when they had finished, the Hall erupted into applause.

"Ah, music. A magic beyond all that we do here." Dumbledore said. "And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Grace wasn't sure if she'd ever been so happy to go to sleep. She seemed weighed down with all the food and all she could think of was a warm bed.

Percy led the first years out of the Great Hall, and Grace waved goodbye to Will as he separated from them. He returned the wave, and she turned around, trudging alongside Hermione up multiple flights of stairs, through a hidden doorway behind a tapestry, past pictures that whispered as she passed.

Suddenly, the group came to a halt. Grace peered at the front and saw a bunch of walking sticks floating midair.

"Peeves. A poltergeist." Percy muttered to the first years. "Peeves, show yourself!" He commanded the air.

There was a pop, and a tiny man in an odd assortment of clothes with beady, mean eyes appeared, holding the walking sticks.

"Ooo, ickle firsties. What fun!" He cackled and swooped towards them. Grace ducked along with everyone else.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" Percy threatened, and Peeves stuck out his tongue at him. He flew away, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head as he went.

"You'll want to watch out for Peeves." Percy told them. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

He had stopped in front of a painting of a very fat woman in a bright pink dress.

"Password?" She asked.

"Capus Draconis." Percy said, and the door swung open.

They squashed themselves through the door and Grace caught her first sight of the Gryffindor common room. It was a comfortable place, with a roaring fire and big armchairs.

Percy directed the girls to their dormitory up the stairs, and Grace said good night to Harry and Ron before walking up them. Hermione yawned next to her, and in front of them, Lavender and Parvati giggled quietly.

They got into their rooms, and Grace saw that her trunk was at the foot of one of the four–poster curtains with dark red, velvet curtains. Quickly, she pulled on pajamas and got into bed.

"It's all very interesting, isn't it? I mean, seems a bit dangerous, but I can't wait for classes tomorrow!" Hermione said as she got into bed.

Grace smiled. Despite Harry and Ron's opinion, she liked her. The other two girls in their year seemed nice, but Hermione acted like she'd be a better friend.

"I'm excited too. Good night." She said sleepily, and she closed the curtains before collapsing into her pillow.


	3. The Potions Teacher

**Hey guys! Sorry for the delay but my Internet wasn't working for a few days. Anyway, thanks so much for reading. It means so much!**

**Please enjoy and review!**

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair and the girl with brown hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Grace heard all these whispers shot at Harry as they went from class to class the next day. People stared at him wherever they went, doubling back in the corridors, talking quietly as he passed. It was distracting, considering that she needed to find their classes and Harry and Ron were hopeless when it came to directions.

According to Hermione, there were one hundred and forty–two staircases in Hogwarts, some that moved, some with vanishing steps. There were also thousands of doors, some that wouldn't move unless you asked nicely, or scratched them in the precisely right way. Everything moved frequently unless you kept careful track of it.

Grace learned quickly which of the ghosts to trust. Sir Nick always lent her a hand, but if anyone listened to Peeves, he would have you so turned around and trapped that you were lucky if you were ten minutes late. And if you were already late, he'd slow you down even more.

Luckily for Grace, she'd managed to keep away from Argus Filch, but Harry and Ron spent a good twenty minutes detailing how he had caught them on accident trying to get into the third–floor corridor, which was prohibited. They were only rescued by Professor Quirrell who was passing by.

Worse than Filch was Mrs. Norris, who patrolled the corridors as well. Many of the students' greatest desire was to give her a good kick. Break a rule in front of her and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appeared within minutes. He knew the secret passages of the castle better than anyone, except perhaps the Weasley twins.

Grace also soon discovered that magic was harder and more extensive than she had imagined.

Every Wednesday at midnight they went up to the highest tower and practiced Astronomy to learn the movement of the planets and different stars. Three times a week there was Herbology, where Grace discovered dangerous and magical plants, some of which she hadn't heard of, but most of them she knew. Their teacher was Professor Sprout.

The most boring class was History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, a ghost. According to stories, he had fallen asleep one day and left his body behind when he got up to teach the next day. His voice put even Grace, who tried to pay attention in all her classes, to sleep, and all the names sounded the same to her. If it weren't for Hermione's intense notes that she allowed Grace to copy after every class, Grace would have done very poorly.

The tiniest man Grace had ever seen, Professor Flitwick, taught Charms. He was the only teacher to show excitement at Harry's name on the role call.

Professor McGonagall was Grace's favorite teacher, despite her stern appearance. During their first class, she gave them all a talking–to.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then turned her desk into a pig and back again. They all were very impressed, but quickly realized that turning furniture into animals was in the distant future. After taking very many notes, they began trying to turn matches into needles. By the end of the lesson, Grace was proud to state that her match had become silver and pointy, as had Hermione's, though Hermione had managed it on her fifth try and Grace had gotten it on her last. Still, it felt good to have gotten it at all. Professor McGonagall had given them each a rare smile, something that warmed Grace to the tips of her toes.

Grace had looked forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts a lot, having read about the subject extensively, but she sooner realized Professor Quirrell was an unfit teacher and the class was a joke. Professor Quirrell told them stories of his meetings with dangerous creatures but seemed unable to explain how he had defeated them. They learned no defensive magic, and Grace was very unsatisfied.

She knew Harry was glad to know that he was not miles behind everyone else. Many people came from Muggle families, and there was so much to learn that not even the ones who grew up wizards had too big of a head start.

The bruise on her cheek faded quickly, as did any thoughts of home. She found herself more relaxed and happy than she had been in a long time.

The first Friday was a good day. Grace had gone done to breakfast early with Hermione, and she got help with the Herbology homework that had been giving her trouble.

When Harry and Ron arrived, they announced that they had made it to the Great Hall without getting lost once.

"About time. It only took you five days." Grace teased.

"We don't all have your sense of direction." Ron said, sitting down and digging in.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured a large amount of sugar over his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins. Snape's head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them. We'll be able to see if it's true." Ron told them.

"Wish McGonagall favored us." Harry muttered, obviously bitter over the massive amount of work they'd gotten the day before.

"I'll help you with the homework tonight. It's not so bad." Grace told him.

Just then, the mail arrived with dozens of owls swooping in, carrying various letters and packages from home. They circled the tables until they saw their owners before landing.

Hedwig, Harry's beautiful snowy owl, landed in front of them. She dropped a folded note onto Harry's plate, which he read immediately.

Harry borrowed Ron's quill, wrote something down, and sent it off with Hedwig again.

"Who's it from?" Grace asked curiously.

"Hagrid. He wants me to visit after classes." Harry answered.

"I hope Potions isn't too bad." Ron said as he finished his eggs.

As it turned out, Potions was the worst thing that had happened to Grace all week.

Potions took place in the dungeons. It was freezing down below the rest of the castle and creepy enough even without the jars holding various pickled things on the walls.

Snape started the class with role call. When he reached Harry's name, he paused.

"Ah, yes." He said, his voice dangerously soft. "Harry Potter. Our new…celebrity."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered in the corner. Grace glared at them and turned back to Snape. His eyes were like wells in the earth; black, cold, and unfathomably deep.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion–making." Snape spoke in a bare whisper, but in the silence of the classroom, it was enough. "As there is little foolish wand–waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with it shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I have to usually teach." Snape told them.

Grace looked to her right. Hermione seemed desperate to prove she wasn't a dunderhead. Harry and Ron just looked confused.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked surprised, but Hermione's hand shot into the air. "I don't know, sir."

Snape sneered coldly. "Tut, tut. Clearly, fame isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shook with silent laughter as Snape said, "Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Hermione's hand was still raised, quivering in the air. Snape ignored it. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione stood up, stretching towards Snape desperately, her hand higher than ever.

"I don't know. I think Hermione does, why don't you ask her?" Harry said quietly.

A few people laughed, including Grace.

"Sit down!" Snape snapped at Hermione, who sank into her seat.

"For your information Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"

At those words, the entire class scrabbled for parchment and quills.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." Snape said, and Grace opened her mouth to protest.

"No, don't! You'll only make it worse!" Hermione hissed to her, and she shut her mouth again.

The Potions lesson went on, Grace trying to focus on her potion as best she could. It was a simple one to cure boils, and she was confident in her abilities. As she weighed dried nettles and crushed snake fangs, Snape swept around the classroom, criticizing everyone except Malfoy, who looked exceptionally smug. Just as he began to tell everyone to look at how perfectly Malfoy was stewing his horned slugs when Grace heard a hissing and bright green smoke filled the room.

Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a blob of warped metal, and the potion floated across the stone floor. Grace leapt onto her stool to avoid Neville's fate.

He had been drenched in the potion, and angry red boils were popping out over his skin as he moaned in pain.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled. The potion vanished with a wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered, cowering under Snape's eyes.

"Take him up to the hospital wing." Snape spat at Seamus, who helped Neville out of the room.

Grace saw Snape turn towards Ron and Harry, his robes whooshing with him.

"You, Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Grace's mouth opened in indignant shock as Ron kicked Harry from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it. I've heard Snape can turn very nasty." He muttered, and Harry, seething, didn't argue with Snape. Grace shut her own mouth unwillingly.

After Potions, Grace walked with Ron and Harry. She'd managed to finish her potion, but her temper was running high at Snape's unfair treatment of her friend. Gryffindor had lost two points in the first week of school.

"Cheer up you two." Ron told them finally. "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can we come and meet Hagrid with you?"

That lifted Grace's spirits as Harry agreed, and at five to three, they walked across the grounds to a small, wooden house very close to the Forbidden Forest. A pair of enormous galoshes and a lethal–looking crossbow were on the front porch.

Harry knocked at the front door, and instantly a flurry of barks hit their ears.

"Back, Fang, back!" Hagrid's voice boomed over the barking. The door opened a crack and Hagrid appeared.

"Hang on." He said. "Back, Fang."

He finally opened the door wide enough for them to make it through, keeping a tight hold on the collar of a black boarhound straining to reach them.

Grace looked around the one–room house. Pheasants, herbs, and what looked like a bundle of unicorn hair hung from the ceiling and a copper kettle whistled over a roaring fire.

"Make yerselves at home." Hagrid told them, releasing Fang. He instantly bounded towards Grace, licking her neck. She pushed him off and sat down next to Ron at the large wooden table. Her feet didn't touch the ground.

"This is Ron and Grace." Harry told Hagrid, who was bustling around making tea and piling rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh? I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless and hard enough to break Grace's teeth, but she pretended to like them for Hagrid's sake. They all told Hagrid about their first lessons, and he listened intently.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid call Mr. Filch "that old git".

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."

Harry quickly told Hagrid about their horrible Potions lesson, but Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry to let it go and that Snape didn't like any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me." Harry told him.

"Rubbish!" Hagrid said. "Why should he?" He looked at Ron. "How's yer brother Charlie? I liked him a lot, great with animals."

It had sounded like Hagrid had changed the subject, but that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?

Ron started talking about his brother and his work with dragons, but Grace's attention drifted soon enough.

"Hagrid! That Gringotts break–in happened on my birthday. It might have been happening while we were there!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, looking up from a clipping of newspaper he held.

Hagrid avoided his eyes and grunted. He offered them all another rock cake, but Grace declined, peering instead over Harry's shoulder.

**Gringotts Break–in Latest**

Investigations continue into the break–in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon."

Grace exchanged a look with Harry, suspicious and searching. As they walked back to the castle with pockets full of rock cakes they had no intention of eating, Grace wondered about what Hagrid hadn't said. Did he know something about the break–in? Did Harry know? And was there something more between Harry and Snape than just dislike?


	4. The Midnight Duel

**Hey guys! Sorry it's taken so long to post this chapter! I'll try to be better :/. Thanks for hanging in!**

**Anyway, please review and enjoy!**

The days passed quickly to Grace. She loved every minute of being at Hogwarts, the only exception Potions with Malfoy and Snape. Every day, she went to her classes, doing well in all of them, surpassed only by Hermione, which surprised her most of all. She didn't think she'd be that good at magic. She talked to Will in the hallways or the common room, the twins always with him. At night, she did homework with Harry and Ron in the common room before going to bed and stayed up late talking with Hermione about things unrelated to school.

The thing that really made her happy was the notice posted in the common room one evening.

Flying lessons would start that Thursday, Gryffindors and Slytherins together.

"Typical." Harry muttered grimly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"C'mon, Harry! It'll be fun." Grace told him.

"You don't know you'll make a fool of yourself." Ron told him. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy did talk a lot about flying. He bragged about escaping Muggle helicopters and complained irritatingly about first years not being on the teams. But so did everyone. Seamus and Ron couldn't stop talking about their adventures on broomstick, and Ron and Dean Thomas kept arguing about Quidditch versus the Muggle game of soccer. Grace didn't see the appeal of a game on the ground with one ball, but she supposed it was interesting to some.

Neville, who had never been on a broom in his life, something Grace thought was wise from his clumsy nature, was nervous. Hermione, who was daunted by the idea of something you couldn't learn from a book, kept telling them all tips for flying from a book from the library. Finally, when they were all bored to death, Grace took the book and snapped it shut.

"Flying isn't really something you can learn. Either you're decent at it or you're not." She said.

"But of course you can learn!" Hermione said.

"Once you're on the broom, it's mostly instinct. Of course you can get better, but if you don't have that instinct…" Grace shrugged.

"You fly?" Seamus asked.

"At home. I want to be on the team in a few years." Grace said hopefully.

Their talk was interrupted by the arrival of the mail, which Grace was grateful for. She expected nothing, but it was a welcome distraction.

A barn owl landed in front of Neville, who eagerly unwrapped the package attached to its hind leg. He held up the glass ball a size of a marble, filled with white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" He said. "Gran knows I forget things, this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like if it turns red…oh," his face went scarlet, "you've forgotten something." His eyebrows knit together as he tried to remember what he'd forgotten.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy, walking past their table, snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand. Ron and Harry leapt up, and Grace grabbed Harry's arm.

"Don't!" She hissed.

"What's going on?" Professor McGonagall asked, appearing in a flash. Her sharp eyes took in Harry and Ron and Malfoy quicker. They landed on Grace's vice grip on Harry's sleeve.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." Neville said, and Malfoy scowled, dropping the Remembrall to the table.

"Just looking." He said, and he slid away with Crabbe and Goyle following like shadows.

At 3:30, the Gryffindor first years headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Grace could feel butterflies in her stomach. She hadn't flown since leaving home, and she missed the sensation. It was a beautiful, slightly windy day, and the grass bent under their feet as they walked.

The Slytherins were already there, a black clump against the green, and about twenty broomsticks were on the ground in front of them. Grace had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, calling them unreliable and about as fast as my Aunt Muriel, whoever that was.

Their teacher, a woman with short, gray hair and yellow eyes named Madame Hooch, watched them like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Grace hurried to move next to one of the battered brooms. Harry was on her left and Hermione on her right.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say up!" Madame Hooch said.

"UP!" Grace said firmly, and the broom shot to her hand. Harry grinned at her. His broom had leapt at his voice as well. She smiled broadly back.

Hermione looked at her enviously. Hers had only rolled over.

"Just say it like you want it, I guess?" Grace offered.

"Up!" Hermione said shrilly, and the broom moved to her hand. She smiled at Grace proudly.

Madame Hooch then walked up and down the line, showing them how to mount properly and where to grip the broom. Grace, Harry, and Ron were ecstatic when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong all his life.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." Madame Hooch said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

But Neville, his face pale with nervousness, kicked off hard before she even raised the whistle to her lips.

"Come back, boy!" Madame Hooch yelled, but Neville was shooting up into the sky, twenty feet, thirty feet…he was looking down, his face as white as the moon, he was slipping off his broom, Grace's heart was in her throat, he was falling through the air and _crack!_

Neville moaned with pain as he lay facedown in the dirt. His broomstick began to drift away, towards the Forbidden Forest, disappearing in the haze of the sun.

Madame Hooch bent over Neville, gingerly helping him up.

"Broken wrist." She muttered. "Come on, boy, it's all right, up you get."

She helped Neville stand and faced the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say Quidditch. Come on, dear."

Her and a crying Neville began walking back to Hogwarts slowly.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Malfoy burst into laughter, and Grace's fists clenched.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" He said to the Slytherins, who began to join in.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati." Pansy Parkinson, a hard–faced Slytherin said.

"Leave her alone, Parkinson." Grace snapped, and Malfoy darted forward.

"Look, it's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." He said, picking up the fallen Remembrall.

"Give that here, Malfoy." Harry said quietly.

Malfoy smiled. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, and Malfoy pushed off from the ground on his broom. He could fly pretty well, unfortunately, and was hovering near the tops of an old oak.

"Come and get it, Potter!" He shouted down to them, and Harry and Grace moved to their brooms.

"NO!" Hermione grabbed Grace's arm. "Madame Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

Grace relinquished the broom, but Harry pushed off of the ground, soaring into the sky.

"What an idiot." Hermione said disapprovingly, but as Harry pulled his broom up to take it higher, Grace smiled. Ron gave a whoop as a couple girls screamed. Harry turned his broom sharply to face Malfoy, and Grace thought Malfoy looked stunned. Harry was, and there was no other word for it, a natural.

"Give it here or I'll knock you off your broom!" She heard Harry yell faintly.

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy said even fainter.

Harry shot forward like a torpedo towards Malfoy, who just got out of the way in time. Some people began clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!" Harry called to Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Malfoy yelled. Grace saw the ball arc into the air as Malfoy shot for the ground.

Harry shot for the ball, and Grace found herself leaning forward in anticipation. The ball was almost at the ground, but so was Harry. His hand stretched out and closed around the ball, and Grace cheered, wrapping an arm around Ron in a hug. Harry fell onto the grass gently and faced them, his hand around the small ball proudly.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Grace's heart sank as Harry's exhilarated face fell. Professor McGonagall ran for them, her eyes livid.

"Never…in all my time at Hogwarts, how dare you, might have broken your neck!"

"But, Professor–"

"Quiet, Miss Wilder!"

"But Malfoy–"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley! Potter, follow me, now."

Grace watched, her heart pounding, as Harry, his head bowed, followed the professor towards the castle. If Malfoy had just gotten him expelled…

As they became small figures in the distance, Malfoy let out a small laugh. Grace whirled around on him.

"Y–you pathetic excuse for a human being! What did Harry ever do to you, or Neville for that matter? What gives you the right?" She said angrily at him, and Goyle and Crabbe flexed their hulking muscles.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking your cronies scare me." Grace sneered, and Ron moved to her side.

"Grace, don't! You'll just get in trouble!" Hermione said, and Grace almost didn't want to listen. But Crabbe and Goyle loomed threateningly, and she hesitated.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Wilder?" Malfoy asked, but he inched back, firmly behind Crabbe and Goyle.

Grace stared at him for a second before stepping backwards. However tempting, if she got in trouble, if she got expelled…she couldn't go back home. Not now.

Grace walked into the Great Hall at dinnertime after a long afternoon doing homework exhausted. She saw Ron sitting with Harry at their table and slid into her seat, surprised Harry wasn't expelled.

"Hey! Ron told me you picked a fight with Malfoy." Harry said, and she served herself.

"I decided it wasn't worth it." She said bitterly through a bite of food.

"Never mind that, Harry, tell her!" Ron said excitedly.

Harry quickly launched into his story of how Professor McGonagall had taken him to see the Quidditch captain and how he was the new Seeker. Grace's food was forgotten.

"_What_? But…but Seeker? First years never play. You must be the youngest player–"

"In a century." Harry said. "Wood told me."

"Congratulations!" Grace almost squealed, hugging Harry tightly.

"I start training next week. Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret." Harry said.

Fred and George Weasley came over and bent close to Harry, Will lingering a few feet away. "Well done. Wood told us. We're on the team too – Beaters." George said.

"I tell you, we're gonna win the Quidditch cup for sure this year. We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant." Fred said. "Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we got to go, Lee Johnson reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

They disappeared, but someone else appeared, someone Grace did not want to see: Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting on the train back to the Muggles?" Malfoy asked.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you." Harry said coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has. I'm his second, who's yours?" Ron said quickly.

Malfoy sized up Crabbe and Goyle. "Crabbe." He finally said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

He strutted away, and Grace watched him go uneasily.

"What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?" Harry asked.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die." Ron said calmly, continuing eating. "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"Why would he offer though?" Grace asked. "He must know how much trouble we'd get into."

Ron shrugged. He obviously didn't think Malfoy was that smart.

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked.

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose." Ron said. "Grace already tried once, maybe you'll actually manage it."

"Oi!" Grace said indignantly. "I _chose_ not to punch Malfoy! Managing it had nothing to do with it."

"Excuse me." Hermione said, and Grace looked at her.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron asked, and Grace swatted him.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying–"

"Bet you could." Ron snorted, and Grace hit him again.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Don't be so rude!" She said to him.

" – And you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of all the points you'll lose for Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you." Hermione plowed on.

"And it's really none of your business." Harry said.

"Goodbye." Ron added, and Grace huffed, standing up and moving seats to sit next to Hermione across the table. She shot them an angry look, which they just looked confused about, and faced Hermione.

"Sorry about them." She said with a shrug. "They're such boys."

Hermione just looked slightly downtrodden. "It's okay. Besides you, no one really likes me."

"That's not true." Grace protested.

"No, it is. They all think I'm annoying. I'm just trying to keep them out of trouble." Hermione said.

"I know. And I know you're the most brilliant person here, and you're helpful and clever and nice. And I'm pretty sure that eventually, they're going to get that." Grace told her with a smile. Hermione managed a weak one back.

"Now, are you going to help me on the Charms homework, or are you going to let me fail?" Grace asked, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh a little.

That night, Grace crept down to the common room to meet Ron and Harry in a gray bathrobe. Hermione followed her silently. Grace had not been able to keep her away.

Grace saw Ron and Harry creeping downstairs, and Hermione flicked on a lamp.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry." Hermione said.

"You! Go back to bed!" Ron said furiously. "Grace, why'd you bring her?"

"She couldn't stop me. I almost told your brother! Percy, he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this." Hermione retorted.

"Come on." Harry said to Ron, and they moved to the portrait hole. Grace followed, and Hermione tagged along behind them.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells!"

"Go away."

Hermione sighed. "All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so–"

She stopped, and Grace looked at the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was gone, most likely on a nighttime stroll.

"Now what am I going to do?" She asked shrilly.

"That's your problem." Ron said brusquely. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

Grace saw Hermione standing outside the hole as they walked away and motioned for Hermione to follow them. She jogged to catch up.

"I'm coming with you." She announced.

"You are _not_." Ron protested.

"Ron, come on. We can't just leave her outside the dormitory in the middle of the night. Filch will catch her." Grace said exasperatedly.

"And if he sees all of us, I'll tell him that we were trying to stop you two." Hermione said.

"What, so you'll lie to save Grace, but when it comes to us you'll throw us under the bus?" Ron asked.

"Grace is actually my friend, so –"

"Shut up, both of you! I heard something." Harry said, and Grace froze as she heard the snuffling. She felt oddly warmed by Hermione's words.

"Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked, peering into the dark.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris, but Neville, curled up on the floor asleep. He jerked awake as they neared.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed." Neville said.

"Keep your voice down, Neville, the password's pig snout but the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere." Ron said.

"How's your arm?" Harry asked.

"Fine. Madame Pomfrey mended it in about a minute." Neville said.

"Good, well look, Neville, we have somewhere to be, we'll see you later–"

"Don't leave me!" Neville scrambled to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Grace exchanged dismayed looks with Harry and Ron. Ron cast a furious glance at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you." He said angrily, and they kept walking.

Grace tiptoed around every corner expecting to find a teacher or Filch, but they were lucky. They made it to the trophy room without seeing a soul.

No one was there, and instantly that gave Grace a bad feeling. Everything caught the moonlight in here, all the silver and gold. Harry took out his wand as minutes passed.

"He's late, maybe he chickened out." Ron whispered.

A noise in the next room made them all jump, and Grace heard an ominous voice.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they may be lurking in a corner."

Horrified, Grace looked at Hermione.

_Run!_ She mouthed, and they scurried from the room as fast as they could. Grace heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere. Probably hiding." He muttered.

"This way!" Harry mouthed, and they crept down the long hallway, terrified. Grace felt her heart stuttering and her stomach churning. She couldn't be sent back to her mother. She couldn't. The thought made her feel nauseous.

Suddenly, Neville let out a squeak of fright and bolted. He instantly tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist to break his fall, and they both crashed into a suit of armor. The sound was enough to stir the dead.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and they sprinted down the hall, Grace helping Ron stand frantically. They swung through a door, galloped down the hall, ripped through a tapestry, and emerged from the secret corridor near their Charms classroom.

"I think we've lost him." Harry panted. Grace was wheezing for breath, and Neville was bent double.

"I told you. I told you!" Hermione gasped.

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower, as quickly as possible." Ron said.

"Malfoy tricked you." Hermione said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you, Filch knew someone was going to be in that trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry didn't respond to her comment, but Grace knew Hermione was right. "Let's go." He said instead.

They had only gone a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and Peeve rocketed out of the classroom. He gave a cackle at the sight of them.

"Peeves, please, be quiet." Grace said.

"Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should. It's for your own good, you know." Peeves said wickedly.

"Get out of the way!" Ron snapped, swinging at Peeves.

"No!" Grace said, but it was too late.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Peeves bellowed.

They sprinted past Peeves, straight to the door at the end of the corridor…which was locked.

"That's it! We're done for! This is the end!" Ron moaned as the sound of running footsteps got closer and closer.

"Oh, move over!" Hermione pushed him out of the way, drawing her wand. "Alohomora!"

The lock unlocked, and they opened the door, quickly closing it behind them. Grace pressed her ear to it so she could hear.

"Which way did they go, Peeves? Quick, tell me." Filch asked.

"Say please."

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please."

"All right…please."

"Nothing! Haha! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Haha!" Grace heard Peeves whoosh away and was suddenly grateful for his lack of cooperation with everyone and everything.

"He thinks this door is locked. I think we'll be okay." Harry whispered.

"_What_, Neville?" Grace asked, irritated, for Neville had been trying to get her attention for the past minute.

She turned and froze.

This was too much, on top of Malfoy and Filch and Peeves. They were on the third floor, and they were in the forbidden corridor. The door was locked for a good reason.

She stared straight into the eyes of a massive dog. It filled the entire room with it's body and three gargantuan heads with three sets of angry eyes, three noses sniffing at them, and three mouths filled with three sets of yellow fangs dripping saliva.

It wasn't moving, but Grace knew it would the moment they did. Her hand felt for the doorknob. There it was. She'd rather be expelled than dead.

The door burst open as she opened it; they fell out in a heap, and Grace toppled to the floor. Her foot kicked at the door savagely, and it slammed shut. Hermione grabbed her arm, dragging her up, and they sprinted for the Gryffindor common room, not bothering to be quiet, not worrying about Filch, just trying to get away from the monster. They didn't stop until they reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Where on earth have you been?" She asked them.

"Never mind that, pig snout, pig snout." Harry gasped, and they piled into the common room frantically, not feeling completely safe until the door swung shut.

It was quite a while before any of them said a word.

"What do you think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron asked finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry asked. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"It was standing on a trapdoor." Grace told them tiredly. "It's not just there for any reason. It was guarding something."

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could've all been killed, or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed." Hermione stalked off, and Grace sighed.

"No, we don't mind." Ron said, his mouth hanging open. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

Grace stood up, following Hermione.

"Hermione." She said, and Hermione ignored her as she got into bed.

"I know you're mad. I'm sorry. It was a stupid thing to do." Grace said, but Hermione just turned away from her. Grace felt herself slump slightly.

"Okay." She said softly, slipping under her own covers. The darkness of the room was smothering her.

"Just don't do it again." Hermione said suddenly, and Grace smiled. The darkness was a lot lighter suddenly.

"So, what do you think is under that dog?" Hermione asked. Grace thought about the question. The trapdoor entered her mind again, and suddenly she remembered the conversation they'd had with Hagrid about the vault in Gringotts being robbed. Maybe whatever had been in the vault was now underneath that three–headed dog.

"Did you hear about the Gringotts' robbery? Harry told us that earlier that day, Hagrid and him emptied a vault. Maybe Hagrid brought it to Hogwarts."

"What could be so important you need a three–headed dog to guard it?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know." Grace said. _But I want to find out._


	5. Halloween

**Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait, I've just been super busy lately! Anyway, here's chapter five!**

**Please enjoy and review!**

Grace immensely enjoyed the look of surprise on Malfoy's face when he saw them at breakfast the next day. Harry and Ron, now over the terror of the night before, were quite ready to have another adventure, and Grace agreed. The first thing Harry said to Grace in the morning was that the dog was guarding the package from Gringotts.

"I figured that out already." She told him.

"But what is it?" Harry asked.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous." Ron said.

"Or both." Harry added.

"There's no way of finding out without getting past that dog, and since I don't want to get my head torn off, let's not try." Grace said.

Both Hermione and Neville showed no concern for the trapdoor, though Grace knew Hermione was curious. She refused to speak to Harry and Ron, but Grace thought they were enjoying the respite from her bossiness.

Their attention was focused on getting revenge on Malfoy, and to their joy, something arrived a week later that completed that desire.

As the mail arrived, Grace became aware of a large package being carried by six owls. It flew towards them, and the owls dropped it in front of Harry, who was completely shocked. He ripped the note off the package and read it before handing it to Grace.

"Do not open the parcel at the table. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everyone knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session. Professor Minerva McGonagall!" Grace said in undertone, her voice becoming more and more excited. Her eyes looked longingly at the wrapped package.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned. "I've never even touched one."

The trio left the hall to unwrap the broom in private, but when they got into the entrance hall they found the corridor barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy instantly seized the package.

"That's a broomstick. You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them." He said, a mixture of jealousy and spite in his voice.

"It's not any old broomstick!" Ron said. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't even afford half the handle." Malfoy snapped. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Ron took a step forward to retort, but Professor Flitwick had appeared.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" He squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor." Malfoy reported.

"Yes, yes, that's right. Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter." Professor Flitwick beamed at Harry, and Grace smothered a giggle at the sight of Malfoy's flabbergasted face. "And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir." Harry said proudly, and Malfoy turned a delicate shade of pink.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I got it." Harry added, and they headed upstairs, not able to suppress their laughter over Malfoy's confusion and fury.

"Well, it's true. If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team–" Harry began to say.

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules." A stuffy voice said, and Grace turned to face Hermione.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us." Harry said.

"Yes, don't stop now, it's doing us so much good." Ron added, and Hermione spun away.

"She's really not that bad, once you get to know her." Grace said, and Ron scoffed.

"Please. If I ever become friends with her, take me to Madame Pomfrey."

That night, they ate dinner as fast as possible and rushed upstairs. Grace climbed the stairs to the boys' dormitory. It was the same as the girls', only a bit more crowded as there were four girls and five boys, and the floor was quite a lot messier.

Finally, Harry unwrapped the broomstick, and when it slid out onto the bed, Grace sighed in appreciation.

"Wow." Ron breathed out. It was sleek and shiny, made of mahogany, with the name of the broom written in gold on the handle.

"You'll have to let me have a go on it sometime." Grace said, running a finger against the wood.

"Of course."

That night, Grace was in the common room doing homework when someone sat down on the chair beside her and put his feet up on hers.

"Do you mind–?" She began to ask irritably before looking up and seeing Will, grinning mischievously. "Oh, it's you."

"I heard Potter's got a broomstick." Will said nonchalantly.

"How? It was supposed to be a secret." Grace asked.

"I saw you smuggling it up here after lunch. You need to work on your sneaking."

Grace remembered the midnight duel and the three–headed dog. "You have no idea." She said ruefully.

"Staying out of trouble, aren't we? Wouldn't want my favorite first year getting expelled." Will asked teasingly.

"Trust me, you won't get rid of me that easy." Grace said with a grin.

Another couple weeks passed, and when Ron pointed out that they had been at Hogwarts for two months, Grace was surprised. It felt like seconds and eternity at the same time. She already dreaded summer.

But just then, it was Halloween, nowhere close to June. The castle smelled of baking pumpkin, and even more exciting, they were learning how to make objects fly in Charms. Grace was excited to finally start learning more complicated magic. They were put in pairs, and Grace was with Dean Thomas, who she didn't know too well but liked. Harry was with Seamus, and Ron, who looked livid, was with Hermione.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said s instead of f and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Grace looked at the white feather in front of her. It seemed very protected by gravity to her.

The class was soon filled with shouts of "Wingardium Leviosa". Harry, across from Grace, was nearly set ablaze as Seamus lit his feather on fire., and Grace giggled. Ron was having no luck either.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, waving his arms about.

"You're saying it wrong. It's Wing–_gar_–dium Levi–_o_–sa, make the gar nice and long." Hermione snapped.

"You do it then, if you're so clever." Ron snarled, and Hermione pushed up the sleeves of her robe.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" She said, and the feather drifted lazily from her desk into the sky, hovering about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done! Everyone, see here, Miss Granger's done it!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed.

Needless to say, Ron was in a bad mood at the end of class. Grace had managed to make her feather fly soon after Hermione, but it was difficult to keep it in the air.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly." Ron exploded to Grace and Harry. The comment made Grace think of Hermione's sad words about how Grace was her only friend. Grace didn't feel like a very good one right then.

Someone knocked into Grace hard. She looked at Hermione's tear–streaked face as she hurried past them, avoiding their eyes.

"I think she heard you." Harry said.

"So?" Ron said uncomfortably. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Grace wanted to say something, but she also didn't want to make Ron even angrier or irritate Harry. She felt guilty for the rest of the day, when Hermione didn't show up to any of their classes. On their way down to the Great Hall for the feast, Grace heard Parvati telling Lavender that Hermione had been in the girls' bathroom crying all afternoon, and she bit her lip. Even the Halloween decorations couldn't put Hermione from her mind, though they were spectacular.

Carved pumpkins lit every table, and a thousand live bats swooped around the Great Hall. The food appeared as they sat down, and Grace began eating, though she didn't feel hungry.

The doors burst open, and Grace spun in her seat. Professor Quirrell ran towards the High Table, terror on his face. He fell against the table, staring up at Professor Dumbledore.

"Troll…in the dungeon…thought you ought to know." He gasped before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.

Instantly, the students burst into screams and shouts. It took several purple firecrackers issued from Professor Dumbledore's wand before the students would settle down.

"Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" He thundered, and Grace stood up. She could see Percy's bright red head leading them on.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!" He declared, leading them out of the Great Hall.

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid. Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke." Ron offered.

A thought occurred to Grace, and she grabbed Harry's arm.

"Hermione!"

"What about her?" Ron asked.

"She won't know. She's in the bathroom, remember?" Grace said.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"Oh, all right." Ron snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Bowing their heads, they joined a group of Hufflepuffs going the other way and slipped towards the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" Ron hissed, pulling Grace and Harry behind a stone griffin.

But it was Snape, his robes billowing out behind him.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me." Ron answered.

"Does it matter? Let's just go find Hermione." Grace said urgently.

Harry began walking after Snape. "He's heading for the third floor." He said, but a smell had hit Grace's nostrils. She coughed.

"You smelling this too?" Ron asked.

"Unfortunately." Grace answered. It smelled of sewage and dirty laundry and mold. A giant shape was slouching down the hall towards them. They hid in the shadows, and it emerged in a patch of moonlight.

It was a greenish–stone gray, its skin mottled and lumpy. Its head was too small for its body, and its arms were too long. In one it held a long club that dragged on the flagstone floor.

The troll stopped next to a door and peered inside. Slowly, it moved through the passage.

"The key's in the lock. We could lock it in." Harry muttered.

"Good idea." Ron said. Grace stared at the door with the unmistakable feeling that this was a bad idea.

Harry dashed forward, slammed the door, and locked it.

"Yes!" Ron crowed.

"No!" Grace shouted. She had finally realized what the door was. "That _was_ the girls' bathroom."

A high–pitched scream reached their ears. They looked at each other.

"_Hermione_!"

Harry fumbled with the key in the lock, Grace pushing against it frantically. Finally, he pulled it open, and they ran inside.

Hermione was cowering against a wall, looking like she was about to faint. The troll was sending porcelain sinks flying with its club as it advanced.

"Confuse it!" Harry yelled desperately. Grace picked up a piece of marble and chucked it at the creature. It bounced off, but the creature turned. It looked straight at Harry before making for him.

"Oi, pea–brain!" Ron shouted, throwing a metal pipe at the troll. It turned to advance on Ron, and Grace ran to Hermione.

"Let's go, let's go!" She shouted, but Hermione was too petrified to move. Ron had no escape from his corner.

Harry began running for the troll.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Grace screamed as he leaped for the troll's neck. His hands fastened around it, and the troll howled with pain. Grace held her wand, but what could she do?

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Ron shouted, and suddenly the club rose from the troll's hand. With agonizing slowness, the club fell towards the troll's head. With a sickening sound, the troll collapsed and fell flat on its face.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking. Grace left Hermione's side and ran to him, gripping him in a hug.

"What were you thinking?" She asked him.

"Is it… dead?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so. I think it's just been knocked out." Harry said. He bent down and pulled his wand from the troll's nose.

"Ugh, troll boogers." He began to wipe them off on his robe.

A sudden slamming and footsteps jerked them from their thoughts. Grace realized that they had been making a lot of noise fighting the troll as Professor McGonagall entered the room, followed by Snape and Quirrell. Quirrell took a look at the troll and whimpered, sitting down on a cracked toilet.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry, Ron, and Grace with the angriest look Grace had ever seen. This was it. She was about to be sent back to live with her mother, who she could barely stand to look at.

"What on earth were you thinking of? You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" McGonagall said, cold rage in every syllable.

Harry, Ron, and Grace looked at each other for help, but none offered any. Grace wished that Ron hadn't been rude to Hermione, that the troll had never come into Hogwarts.

"Please, Professor McGonagall, they were looking for me." Hermione said in a tiny voice, and Grace spun in surprise.

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them." Hermione told her.

Ron outright dropped his wand, and Grace gaped. Hermione was lying to a teacher. It was unheard of.

"Well, in that case, Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" McGonagall said, and Hermione hung her head.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left dejectedly, and Grace watched the floor silently.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first–years could have taken on a full–grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed. You may go."

They scurried towards the Gryffindor common room. About two floors higher, Ron finally spoke.

"We should've gotten more than fifteen points." Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's. "

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that." Ron added. "Mind you, we did save her."

"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her." Harry said as they reached the portrait hole.

"Pig snout." Harry told the Fat Lady and the door opened. The common face was loud and rambunctious. Hermione waited by the door for them. After an awkward pause, they all said, "Thanks" and went to get food.

But after that, much to Grace's relief, they were all friends. There are some things that you have to bond over, and defeating a mountain troll was one of them.


End file.
